Bite My Tongue
by The Wuzzy
Summary: Today is not Damon's day: Stefan is killing people in the lounge, Rick isn't talking to him, and Elena is avoiding his eye. Elena's day isn't too good either: can she finally face up to her feelings for Damon? Oneshot set after 3x04


**Bite My Tongue**

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed my last TVD fic, your comments gave me warm and fuzzy feelings inside and in fact inspired me to write another…and here it is! :D :D**

**The title is stolen from the epic You Me at Six song of the same name.:P**

**It sits comfortably anywhere between Series 3 Episodes 4 and 7, though it's not quite canonical with 3x07. This is, primarily, Delena, but apart from the obligatory Team Badass scene (there HAS to be a Dalaric scene, ALWAYS :,D ) Ripper Stefan and an O.C also make appearances. I hope you like them too (except Stefan heheh:P ).**

**Any mistakes( I hopefully haven't) made are entirely mine: some Briticisms may have slipped through the net, as I'm English (like a boss) I also don't have a clue how the US schooling system works, and have probably completely bungled up the bit about Elena's homework. ;D Sorry!**

**The reference to Rick's Chunky-Monkey ice-cream is a tribute to the hilarious TVD recaps of Julie Kushner, and I've snuck in a line near the end from one of my all-timefave movies, the new Star Trek, and a tribute to a classic meme (it's quite obvious). :D See if you can spot them…**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Damon was nearing thebottom of the staircase when he encountered the first corpse. The girl –young and attractive, obviously - lay on her back, arms thrown at odd angles, sightless eyes staring at something above her, at something that no-one would ever know.

Her neck was a total mess.

Jesus, the man had no self control!

Damon stepped over the pool of congealing blood with distaste. Stefan seriously needed to start paying attention to where he dumped his corpses. 'Blood-crazed frenzy' was no excuse for messiness as far as Damon was concerned; he was tired of clearing up after Stefan, since God knows he'd spent a hundred and fifty years disposing of his own bodies.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he'd killed? Killed properly, just for the hell of it…or because he needed to feed?

He couldn't entirely remember.

Great.

So now he was turning into Mr Boring Lame-ass Goody-goody, a role which had for many years been reserved for his brother.

Screw Elena and all her moral hang ups.

The second girl lay in the corridor, the traces of her last desperate gasp for air still etched on her lips. This one's already low-cut top had been entirely shredded in his brother's desperation to get at her throat.

How pathetic.

Damon carelessly wondered what her name was – had been. Where she was from, who would miss her.

A year ago, it would have been him that had killed her in the first place. God, he was getting soft.

Oh for Christ's sake - there was dried blood in the antique carpet. Damon swore. If Stefan continued to behave like this Damon was gonna whup his ass.

Provided that Damon was still _stron_g enough to whup his ass.

Damn.

For the second time in as many minutes, he cursed Elena where she sat on her high throne of self-righteousness and morally correct behaviour. As he entered the sitting room he continued to curse every irritating aspect of her personality, of which there were many: stubbornness, stubbornness, sheer damn integrity, oh, and _stubbornness_.

"You've got blood on the hall carpet," he intoned.

"Get it cleaned, then," said Stefan, in his recently acquired and highly irritating I-don't-give-a-crap manner.

"It's your mess, you clean it up."

What had happened to the miserable, brooding Stefan, hung up over every little unimportant detail, or rather, mess Damon had gotten into? Oh yeah, Klaus had come and flipped the switch on him. And now Damon was stuck with a hyper, blood-drunk little brother who was such a pain inthe ass Damon almost missed the old version.

God, Damon thought, I never thought I'd miss _that._

As Damon had suspected from the heady, coppery scent in the air, Stefan lay reclined on the couch with either arm draped over two more scantily-clad blood-stained girls. These two were still alive, though the one on the right was fading fast. Both were giggling, drunk, and under compulsion – completely oblivious to the less than attractive fate which awaited them.

"Compelling your way through the female population of Mystic Falls, I see," remarked Damon dryly.

Stefan turned idly and flashed him a sharp-toothed grin. "I didn't compel this one," he said, using his foot to nudge another woman who lay at his feet. Now _she_ was _definitely_ dead. She also looked way too old for Stefan…figuratively speaking, of course.

"Stefan, Stefan," Damon walked down the steps and over to the drinks table, "There's no way any girl who wasn't under compulsion or drunk off her face would willingly come home with _you_."

Stefan grinned. "It didn't stop Elena."

Damn. Damon should've seen that one coming.

"It didn't stop this one either," continued his brother, gesturing to the dead woman, "I think she's a bit of a cougar." Stefan took stock of the body, distinctly devoid of a pulse. "Was," he corrected himself, and grinned. "Well, she sure did taste good."

"Tease me again, little brother, and I'll ram the poker up your ass." Damon poured himself a glass of bourbon as he eyeballed the fireplace to emphasize his point. It was only four o' clock, but it'd been a long and extremely frustrating day, and he needed a drink.

He was also _thirsty_, and the sight of Stefan leisurely drinking from a bunch of good-looking girls was not doing anything to improve his mood.

Not that Damon would have touched any of them if Stefan had offered. In fact he would probably have done something incredibly stupid…like let them go.

Yet again, this was all entirely Elena's fault.

Stefan laughed, and paused to vamp out and take a bite out of one of his companions. She gave a small gasp and her eyes rolled back behind their fluttering lids. Damon met Stefan's mocking gaze over her neck, knocking back his bourbon unfalteringly as Stefan slowly licked a trail of blood from her throat.

Damon smirked. Stefan, ever the douche-bag ripper, was under the impression that since he was entirely devoid of self-control the same followed for his brother. As always, he was wrong. Damon wasn't affected by the sight and smell of blood. Not that anyone could tell, anyway.

He was, however, glad when the doorbell rang, and he had an excuse to leave the room.

Yanking open the front door, he vaguely hoped it might be Rick coming to bridge the schism in their ad-hoc-friendship-that-was-no-longer.

Fat chance.

Instead, it was Elena. She must have come straight from school.

"Damon," she greeted him, and tried to walk straight past him. She was wearing her determined face. Oh great, here we go again.

He leant on the door frame, blocking her entrance, and treated her to one of his killer smiles. "And how can I help you today, Miss Gilbert?"

She threw him her 'You're-so-immature' glare, as he'd known she would. "I want to talk to Stefan."

Damon feigned disappointment. "You came all this way to talk to _Stefan?_ When _I'm_ here to entertain you?"

"So he's here?"

"_I'm_ here." Damon raised his eyebrows with a cocky smile.

Elena sighed. "Seriously, Damon, can we not do this right now? I have to talk to him."

Ouch.

"About what?" he asked, frowning.

Elena met his eyes, and then quickly looked away. "Does it honestly matter?" She sounded tired.

Feeling suitably chastised, Damon quickly straightened up and moved aside. "Be my guest."

A relieved smile ghosted Elena's lips, and she entered the house. Damon was closing the door behind her when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

"_Damon!"_

He'd forgotten about the bodies. _Shit._

He speed-ran round in front of Elena, blocking her view of the girl in the corridor. Judging by the look on her face, he had moved a little too fast and was standing a little too close.

Or it could just have been the sight of the body.

"On second thoughts," he said, "Maybe talking to Stefan isn't such a good idea."

Elena closed her eyes, her panic at seeing the dead girl fading. "Where is he?"

"He's…" Damon fished for a suitable phrase, "…occupied."

Elena swallowed and nodded slowly. "I can do this Damon," she said.

Damon snorted. "The rate your heart is beating right now, I'd say that was a…no. You cannot do this."

Elena flushed. "Damon, I _have_ to see this."

"Well, too bad, because you're not seeing any of it." Damon spun her around and pushed her by the shoulders. "Go now. _Leave_. Goodbye. See you tomorrow."

Elena struggled from his grip and turned back to face him. "Damon, get off me!"She glared at him. "He killed that girl; I get it!We've been through this before. I've seen, I _know _what he's like, and I can talk to him. I _can_ handle it."

"He didn't just kill that girl, Elena," Damon snarled, "There's a trail of bodies leading from his bedroom to the sitting room, where he's in the process of feeding from, _killing, _several more."

Elena flinched, and Damon continued to glare at her. "You are _not_ ready to see your ex-_boyfriend _ murder innocent girls, who, if it weren't for some freak of magic, _could be you_," he spat.

Her face fell and he softened. Then she swallowed slowly and nodded.

"Okay. I…understand that you're trying to protect me. But I need to speak to Stefan, and I _need _know all of it. _All_ of it." Damon wavered, and she continued quickly, "Plus, he's not going to hurt me. Klaus sent him here to protect me, remember?" She gazed at him earnestly for a moment, brown eyes pleading…but for the second time, she then looked away, down at the floor.

Damon considered.

Then he narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Fine, you can talk to him. But on your own _head_ be it."

"Thank you," Elena said, but she still didn't meet his eye.

Damon followed her progress with interest as she then, gingerly, made her way around the girl's body. She seemed to come to a decision, and turned around, a question almost bursting out of her.

"Damon - can you leave the bodies somewhere where people will find her… to give the families…you know…closure?"

Damon nodded, and immediately regretted it. He _had_ been going to burn them. Now he would have to waste his evening staging a fake animal attack.

But it wasn't like he'd been going to say _no_ to her, was it.

They walked into the lounge, Damon sticking to Elena's back. It didn't hurt to be careful.

Elena glanced at Stefan, where he sat with the women…only one of whom was still living.

Damon really hoped she wouldn't freak out. Or rather, that _he _wouldn't freak out.

Elena and ripper-Stefan in the same room with _blood_ lying around gave him some serious heebie-jeebies.

Elena took a deep breath. "Hello, Stefan."

She sounded completely calm, yet he, Damon, was tense as anything.

Damn, more power to her.

Damon's current least favourite douche-bag released the girl he'd been feeding from, and turned around on the sofa, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He seemed surprised, but not displeased, that his ex had wandered in on his little shindig.

But then again, why would he care? He had no feelings.

However, if he tried anything on with Elena, Damon was going to make damn sure that he _would_ care.

"Elena…what are you doing here?" Stefan asked in a suspiciously cheerful voice, confirming Damon's belief that he was entirely right not to trust Stefan anywhere _near_ as far as he could throw him.

"I'm here to see you."

Stefan casually stood and dropped the newly deceased girl next to the other at his feet. The third, he gripped by the wrist, so tightly that blood welled up around his fingernails. She tripped along behind him silently and obediently, entirely happy to follow her captor.

"You wanted to join my…party?" Stefan grinned, then caught the look on Damon's face, and raised his hands, still holding the girl. "I'm just kidding," he smiled, "You know I'm not going to touch her."

Damon glanced at Elena. She seemed to be studiously ignoring the other girls…either that, or they didn't bother her.

What was he on? Of course they bothered her.

She'd just gotten tough- and good at not showing that she still cared.

"I wanted to talk to you," continued Elena, "to ask you some questions…about Klaus."

Stefan didn't move, his face suddenly smoothed into a blank, stony slate.

"I'm not really in the mood for talking, Elena," he said, voice cold.

Uh-oh, time to get her out of here.

"Too bad," said Elena, not seeming to have noticed that she'd put the ripper in a bad mood. "Because _I _want to talk to _you_.And I wanted to ask you to…to _tell _you…" she took a step towards Stefan "…to stop this. This is wrong. You don't have to kill all these people."

Stefan leaned into Elena and gave a slow, predatory smile. Damon clenched his fists. Stefan was _way _too close to Elena for comfort.

"Well you know what, Elena?" Stefan's eyes were like dark pools. There was no humanity in there. Not one single itty-bitty drop. "You don't really get a _say_ in what it is I do and don't do. I can do whatever the hell I want, I can _kill_ whoever the hell I want. I don't want to talk to you. Not now, not later, and not really ever, to be honest. Wanna know why?"

Elena didn't reply, but held his gaze, head high.

"Because," Stefan whispered, "I _don't…care."_

Elena didn't look away, and didn't even blink…but still she remained silent.

Both of them seemed to have forgotten Damon was in the room with them, and he felt more than a little bit awkward.

Stefan tilted his head on one side. "How does it feel, Elena, knowing that I don't care about you? Does it hurt?" He grinned maliciously. "Does it make you _cry_?"

Okay, now the jerk had gone too far. Damon was going to pummel him.

But suddenly, Elena found her voice.

"No, I don't." she said, and Damon couldn't even detect the faintest waver in her tone. She sounded strong. "I don't cry, because I don't pity myself. I pity _you, _Stefan. That's right, I pity you. Because the way you are right now…" she gestured at the girl still hanging off his arm, and the two on the floor, "All of this, and what you're doing…it's absolutely _pathetic._"

Damon almost smiled. With…pride? How embarrassing.

Stefan looked at Elena with an expression of confused interest for a moment. Then he seemed to shrug it off, and straightenedup.

"Well, I'm bored, so I'm going to leave."

Hah. What that meant was, he couldn't think of a good comeback.

Stefan shoved his captive girl in Damon's direction, and he caught her in surprise. "Present, from me, I can't be bothered to finish her off. Indulge yourself for once." Stefan turned again to Elena, and opened his mouth as though he was about to say something. Then he closed it again.

Then he was gone.

Elena and Damon stood in silence for a moment.

"Elena…" Damon began, trying to meet her eye.

Elena let out a gust of air, a sigh, and her whole body seemed to slump. She shook her head and turned from him slightly. "I'm fine. It's okay, really. I'm used to this by now."

Damon watched in consternation as Elena, thinking he wasn't looking, surreptitiously wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You need to do something with that girl," she said, voice deceptively light.

Damon suddenly realised that he was holding a frail, bitten, teenage human girl, arms and neck smeared with her own the smell, A positive, actually.

Stefan's favourite.

"Where did Stefan go?" said the girl, sounding disappointed.

Hah hah.

Damon smiled at the _hilarious _irony of her comment, and cupped her face in his hands. He was vaguely aware of Elena watching him out of the corner of his eye.

The girl had a round, open…_trusting_ face, and shoulder length brown hair. Unlike the others, she was pretty plain.

He snorted. Stefan has _no_ taste in women.

With one exception.

Damon met the girl's eyes with his, to compel her to forget, and get out.

Then, something made him change his mind.

"**You're released from the compulsion my brother put on you."**

Damon wondered if he was trying to prove something. To himself, to Elena.

"**All your emotions, and your body, memories, blah blah blah, are **_**all **_**back under your control."**

No I'm not, I'm doing it to see what the hell will happen.

"Damon," asked Elena warily, "what are you doing? Won't that -"

"Shush," said Damon, "It's an experiment."

"_Experiment?_Damon -"

"Elena, trust me. In fact, promise me you won't interrupt… unless something goes horribly wrong."

"Okay," said Elena grudgingly, "but if you're not careful you're going to give her the fright of her life."

Damon smiled mischievously, doing his 'eye-thing' at her for old time's sake. "And _that_ is what I do _best_."

Elena sighed in exasperation, and Damon focussed back on the girl in his arms, who had been gazing around at the room with a lost expression.

The girl blinked in momentary confusion. "What…" she began, and raised her hands to the side of her neck.

Here we go...

Her eyes widened in horror and realisation. "Oh my god…" she whispered, and her shoulders began to shake.

"Hey," said Damon, "It's okay. He's gone."

"Oh my god," she choked out, curling into herself "He was…he…oh god…"

"No-one's going to hurt you any more. _Hey."_ Damon pulled her up so she was standing straight again and looking at him, arms around her back. Her breaths were coming out in shallow gasps, and she was trembling all over.

"You're safe now. You're safe. Trust me."

She felt so thin, so small. Yet she was bigger than Elena. It was her terror and shock that made her seem so vulnerable – he could smell her fear.

"What's your name?" he asked, voice low and soothing. "Tell me your name."

The girl's breathing became more regular, but she was still shaking.

"M…Mandy," she whispered.

"Mandy, do you trust me? Can you do that for me?"

This was turning out to be harder than he'd expected…it was so damn counter-intuitive not to compel her!

"I'm going to help you. Do you believe me?"

Mandy stared at him for a long time, shaking. Then she nodded almost imperceptibly.

He caught Elena's eye, she shook her head. "Don't," she mouthed at him. Damon ignored her.

Here goes.

"Okay, Mandy. You're hurt. But if you drink this…"

He let the hunger burning deep inside him rush to the surface, and released Mandy with one arm, sinking his teeth into his wrist.

"Oh god…_you…" _She stumbled backwards, but Damon grabbed her into him again. She kicked out, struggling against his arms.

Her lips drew back and her mouth opened to scream._"You're like him! Let me go, oh god let me go!"_

Damn.

Damon pressed a finger to her lips and raised his eyebrows. "No screaming, okay? Or I'll eat you."

Tears spilled down Mandy's cheeks, and her shoulders began to heave uncontrollably.

Crap. Shouldn't have said that.

"Shh. Stop crying. I'm _not_ going to eat you_. _Look, you're going to have to trust me."

Damon gazed earnestly into the terrified girl's eyes, willing her to believe him, speaking gently.

"If you drink my blood, it'll heal you. I'm not going to hurt you, Mandy. Trust me."

Mandy shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, no, no," she whimpered. "Please, no."

_Just stop crying already…or I'm going to give up on this._

"Look," he said to Mandy, slowly let his arms fall back. "I'm not trying to keep you here."

The poor kid was so terrified she didn't even try to run.

"Shh. Shh. Look at me. _Look at me, Mandy."_

Mandy looked up, hiccupping and sobbing.

"Trust me. I'm going to help you. My blood will heal you."

She stared at him incredulously, eyes wet and glistening.

"Trust me, Mandy. Trust me. _Please_."

Damon slowly raised his bleeding arm, never breaking eye contact with her. Her sobs had subsided slightly, and he was able to gently press his wrist to her trembling lips.

Finally.

When she'd actually gotten some in her mouth instead of just smeared round her face, and her wounds were closing up and fading, he stepped back.

Mandy, still staring at him, lifted her arms and touched her neck.

"See? All gone."

Damon gave her one of the half-smiles which pissed Elena off so much.

He'd pretty much had enough of being all comforting and sappy.

"I don't understand," Mandy whispered. "The blood…how…"

For the first time, she had almost stopped shaking, but her body still quivered slightly.

"Well," Damon rolled his eyes. "It's a whole long boring story which I _really_ can't be bothered to tell you. In fact…the truth is…" he stepped up to her again, "…I don't _actually _. I suck like that."

"But…"

"You're gonna forget this anyway," he looked Mandy straight in the eyes. "…which actually makes the whole thing entirely _pointless_."

"I'm…going to forget…?"

"**Mandy. You don't remember any of this. Any of it. No vampires. No dead people. You got drunk, went home with this guy Stefan, but he was totally weird, and made you skin and eat raw squirrels for dinner…"**

"Damon, seriously?" said Elena, who up till now had kept her promise, and been silent.

"…**and you got covered in blood. Also, he was **_**really**_** crappy in bed…so you dumped him."**

"_Damon!"_

"**And now you're going to go home."**

Mandy nodded, and Damon gave the slightly disorientated girl a helping hand into the corridor.

"Check out my talent for comforting terrified schoolgirls," he grinned to Elena as they walked to the door. In reply, Elena shot eye-daggers into the back of his head.

He smirked.

Mandy hesitated by the door, and looked back at him in confusion.

"Bye Mandy," Damon prompted her, and waved.

Suddenly, something seemed to occur to her, and her face broke into a smile –a massive improvement.

"Bye," she called and went out the door. Just as she was closing, she poked her head back around.

"Oh…by the way, Stefan," she grinned, "the sex was _terrible_."

She slammed the door behind her.

Well, crap.

He turned back to Elena, who was trying not to laugh.

"Now I remember why I never bother doing that," Damon said dryly.

"You abso_-lutely_ deserved it," Elena chuckled. Damon couldn't help chuckling at himself either. "But you were doing really well, right up to the end. You had her all completely trusting you. Are you _sure_ you didn't compel her?"

"Glad to see you're impressed," said Damon, "What can I say? It's my charm. It makes me irre_sis_tible."

He'd been hoping to get another smile with that, but instead, her face fell back into the tired expression he'd noticed earlier, and she looked away.

Why did she keep doing that?

"Something's bothering you," he said quietly, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Elena said, "really, I'm fine."

"Elena, something's up. You know whatever it is, you can tell me."

"Nothing's wrong, Damon, seriously!"As if to prove it, she straightened up and forced a smile. "I'm totally fine."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Elena," he said seriously. "You're my – I know you too well. I _know_ when you're upset. And right now…" he cupped her face in his hands, "…something's bothering you. Tell me."

What had he almost said? Friend?

Hell, she was his _only_ friend.

He hated that word.

_Friend._

Elena sighed, and reached up, gently pulling his hands away. "I'm a little tired, that's all. It's just… talking to Stefan…"

"I get it," Damon said, "Stefan's not really the nicest guy to be around right now."

_No, she was lying. She'd been like this before she'd started talking to Stefan._

"…and those girls, dead...I feel like…if it wasn't for me – being the doppelganger -"

_What?_

Damon grabbed her by the shoulders. "Elena, you listen to me. This is _not _your fault. Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for Stefan's behaviour -"

"I'm not blaming myself, Damon," Elena expression was pained, "if I was," she whispered, "I don't know how I'd cope."

Damon nodded.

Damn. He _hated _seeing her like this.

She seemed to pull herself together suddenly, and lifted her chin. He pulled his hands away.

There she was again –strong Elena. It was nice to have her back…but he was pretty sure she still hadn't told him what was really bothering her.

"We have to find a way from stopping him from all this killing," she said firmly.

Damon snorted. "And how exactly do you think we should do that, Elena? Talking to him didn't exactly work."

"I don't know, maybe you could…do something, anything…"

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Do _what_, Elena? What, do you want me to _fight _him or something?"

"I never said _fight_, Damon – but we have to try -"

"But that's what you meant, isn't it?" Damon interrupted, face twisted sardonically."In case you haven't _noticed_, Elena, though I haven't lowered myself to dining off squirrels, I haven't killed - - fed from anyone living since -"

_Since Andi_ .

"-for _months_ other than the bite I took out of that _asshole _Bill Forbes."

He realised he was shouting, and lowered his voice, but his tone was still angry.

"This is not bunny-loving, one-stake-and-he's-down Stefan. This is _ripper_-Stefan. _Ripper_, Elena. He does not care. He does not _feel. _He kills people for _fun._ Klaus may have decided to keep you alive, but _no-one_ you know is safe. Jeremy. Alaric. Bonnie and Caroline," he spat, and made a twisting motion with his hands. "One _snap_ and they're gone."

He was close in her face now, and Elena stared at him in consternation.

"Do you think Stefan will even _hesitate _to kill them if he wants to? Do you reallythink that when I came to this town…Stefan had a bat in hell's chance of stopping me from what I wanted to do?"

He paused, to let his words sink in.

"Because I have just as much chance of stopping _him._"

Elena laid a hand on his cheek. "I know that, Damon. And I'm sorry…it was a stupid suggestion."

Damon's breathing slowed until he became calm, feeling her fingers gently resting on the side of his face.

"It _was_ a stupid suggestion," he agreed softly, "but you don't have to apologise."

Damon put his hand over hers, and squeezed it gently.

Elena almost smiled. Then she seemed to become suddenly aware of their hands together, and pulled hers away.

Hmm.

"Just out of interest…what was it you wanted to talk to Stefan about?"

"Oh," Elena dropped her gaze, and turned from him yet again. "Don't get mad at me…but I didn't have anything to talk about. I just wanted to see him. To prove to myself – just…to see him."

Damon didn't know what to say.

"I know that it was pointless and stupid. But…it did end up saving the girl. Mandy."

Was that…_bitterness_ in her tone? Surely not. Damon frowned in confusion.

"You're not…jealous of that girl, are you?"

Elena spun round to face him, shocked. "_What?"_

"That Stefan -"

"How could you even _ask _that, Damon?" Elena spluttered. "That's-"

"Okay," said Damon, hands up, "It was a stupid question. I shouldn't have asked."

Elena breathed out slowly. "That's okay," she said quietly, looking at the floor.

Now to get the woman to spill the beans.

"Elena, what _is_ it that's bugging you?"

Elena looked surprised. "I've already told you."

"No, that's not were lying before, that's not what's on your mind. You keep turning away, looking away when I look at you." A nasty thought occurred. "Are you avoiding me?"

Elena met his gaze, for once. "No, Damon, it's not you," she said earnestly, "really. You've done nothing except be a good friend. It's…just not something I'm ready to talk about yet."

There it was again. _Friend._

There was a slightly awkward silence.

"I guess I should…go clean up those bodies," said Damon.

"Sure," agreed Elena quickly, "I should go too. I've got a history assignment." She walked over to the door.

"Will you…say hi to Rick for me?"

Elena looked concerned. "Are you two still not talking?"

"Nope. But I'm fine. I'm used to everyone hating me."

"Oh shut up, Damon. I'll tell him, don't worry. I'll tell him that if you don't make up I'll kick him out the house."

"Now _that _will be fun to watch."

"It's not going to come to that. Trust me, he'll listen."

"Sure, whatever."Damon nodded, and opened the door for her. "See ya."

"Bye, Damon," she smiled.

When she smiled, it lit up her whole face.

_As though he _wouldn't _be able to spot her instantly from a crowd of a million anyway._

Damon watched her walk down the path to her car, smiling pointlessly after her.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Hey," said Rick, as Elena wandered into the kitchen, dropping her bag on the table. He seemed to be cooking a microwave meal…and, judging by the smell, burning it.

"Hey, Rick." Elena grabbed a juice carton from the fridge and poured herself a glass, leaning against the counter.

She sniffed. "Is that…lasagne?"

Rick shot up from his seat, hitting the microwave, and yanking out the smoking tray. "Well…it was lasagne when I put it in." He ripped the foil off and poked it with a fork.

He took a huge mouthful and chewed thoughtfully.

"Verdict?" smiled Elena.

"We'll live," Rick replied.

"Got any hints for your assignment?" Elena joked.

"Oh, I'll give you a tip," he said, voice not entirely intelligible through the cheesy pasta, "write me three pages on Mystic Fall's founding families without _once_ mentioning vampires, werewolves or witches…and I'll give you an A."

He took another bite of lasagne. "In fact, make that an A-plus with extra credit."

Elena laughed. "If that's how you're going to run it…half your history seniors are going to fail."

There was, Elena realised, something remotely tragic about the irony of that.

Rick took yet another forkful of lasagne, and screwed up his face. "On second thoughts..."

He chucked the whole tub in the bin. "Next time, I'm sticking with the Chunky Monkey ice-cream."

Elena shook her head fondly, and took another sip of juice.

"Oh, Damon says hi, by the way," she mentioned casually.

Rick grunted.

"Are you still ignoring him?"

She knew the answer already, but she decided to play dumb.

"I'm not ignoring him. I'm just not talking to him," said Rick reasonably.

Elena rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You two are terrible, you know that?"

Rick looked affronted. "Elena, he killed me! I was _dead_. Since when do _'_friends'" he crooked two fingers in the air to show his sarcasm, "murder each other?"

To be fair, she couldn't really argue against that.

"He checked you were wearing the ring first," Elena pointed out feebly.

"Yeah, cause that makes it better!" spluttered Rick. "Look, you can't have one set of morals, and then another for Damon."

Elena flushed.

"Well…I think you should talk to him."

Rick uncapped a bottle of beer. "Elena, he behaved like a d- like a…

"I'm eighteen, Rick."

"Fine. He behaved like a dick. He hasn't even apologised to me, for Christ's sake." He snorted, "Not that I'd expect him to."

"Come on, Rick," Elena pleaded, "You're…well, apart from me, you're his best friend."

Rick raised an eyebrow.

Elena forced herself to imagine Damon getting along and laughing with a whole bunch of nice normal people. Five minutes into the vision, the ones that hadn't run away… and weren't already dead yet either…were wielding stakes and brawling.

The truth of it was actually pretty awkward.

"Okay…so he doesn't have any other friends."

"Like I said, he's a dick."

"Well, you're not exactly Mystic Fall's greatest socialite either."

"Point taken."

"Talk to him." She gestured to his bottle. "At least go get drunk with someone down at the Grill instead of by your self at home, like a total recluse!"

"Let's face it, I am a recluse."

Elena rolled her eyes in exasperation. "No, Rick, you are not a recluse."

"Despite what you said?"

"About not being in the middle of the town's party scene?"

"I'll _stay_ a recluse, and be happy!"

"You go to all these town events, you're practically on the council," Elena wheedled. "Please? It would mean a lot to me. And Damon."

Rick sighed. "If I talk to him…and I mean if…" he added hastily, "Will you get off my case?"

"I'll never bother you again," Elena promised.

"Until next time you need help finding a rock, locating a missing boyfriend, emptying a crypt, or staking, burning, or vaporising one of the many, _many _supernatural beings that plague our mutual existence."

"Exactly."

They grinned at each other.

Elena went over to the sink to wash her empty glass.

"I was wondering," she said carefully, "when Damon…you know, killed you…what did he mean, about – well, he made it sound like you'd been arguing already."

Rick sighed. "It wasn't exactly an argument."

Elena turned back to him "What happened?"

Rick took another swig of beer. "We were actually…discussing someone."

Elena frowned. "Someone?"

Rick rubbed the back of his head and looked at her with a faintly embarrassed expression, "It was you, actually."

Elena raised her eyebrows. "Me?"

Rick groaned. "Look, it's – well," he put down the beer bottle, "Actually, I think this is something you should know." He took a deep breath. "I told him…since Stefan's been…gone, you two – you and Damon – have been very – you've been getting very -" he gestured awkwardly, "Come on, Elena, you know what I mean."

Elena felt her face burn. "We're friends, Rick. Really close friends. He's been looking out for me. That's it."

"Oh, _right_," Rick snorted, and his normally mild expression took on something resembling annoyance. "Elena, let's cut the crap.I would have to have been blind or seriously stupid for the past year to not have seen the way that– how he - " Rick fumbled awkwardly for words, "seriously, you should _watch_ yourself have conversations with him - "

Elena opened her mouth to intervene, but despite probably never having said this much in one go during conversation before… Rick was on a roll.

"- and I felt it was my duty – as basically the only _human_ adult looking out for you –to make sure that…" He cleared his throat. "I told him to…to cool it. To take a beat…with you." He looked her straight in the eyes. "And I stand by what I said."

Elena was lost for words.

"Elena, I'm being serious," Rick continued, "And I'm not going to lie; you haven't exactly been discouraging him either."

Elena's cheeks burned.

Rick was right.

She hadn't.

"Damon would never hurt me," she managed softly. "He hasn't been like _that_ for a long time. You of all people should know."

"Damon would never _intentionally _hurt you." corrected Rick, "His behaviour may have changed – around you – but that doesn't change who he is. _What _he is."

_Does he think I don't _know _that?_

It wasn't just her cheeks that were burning now, and Elena turned back to the sink, busying her hands with the glass.

"Look," sighed Rick, "I know you didn't want to hear this, and I'm sorry. You're old enough to make your own decisions." His expression was sincere, "And I respect that. You're smart, and you're a heck of a lot more mature than most adults I know. But I don't want to see you end up getting hurt."

Elena nodded, blinking furiously.

"I don't want to see _either _of you getting hurt."

_God._

Have I really been that bad?

Maybe I have.

"It's okay," Elena said dully, "I understand."

Rick nodded, and Elena stood her glass to dry.

She picked up her bad from the table.

"I'm going upstairs," she said.

Rick's face asked a question.

"I'm fine," she said, "really, I'm fine."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Blood? Check. Carnage? Check. Savage bite marks? Check. Mangled corpses?

Check.

Damon surveyed his work with an expert's appraising eye.

Fake animal attack officially complete. Hallelujah.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket.

Rick was calling him?

He answered.

"Hey…Rick."

It was a little too soon for 'buddy'.

"Grill." Said Rick."Now."

"So we're talking again?" Damon tried to squash any give-away hopefulness in his voice.

"Evidently."

"And you're not pissed anymore?"

"Like hell I am," Rick growled, "Just get your ass down here."

"On my way."

Rick hung up.

Well, Damon grinned, whatever Elena had done…it seemed to have worked.

His day was looking up.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Elena lay awake in her bed, listening to her blood pounding in her ears.

She wasn't mad at Rick. Everything Rick had said had been the truth.

She was mad at herself.

Climbing out of bed suddenly, she plonked down in front of the mirror, grabbed her hairbrush and began to yank it through her hair in short, fast, strokes, trying to relieve some of the tension that shook through her body.

She glanced at her reflection. Same brown hair, same brown eyes. Same tired expression that had come with Stefan's departure, and never really left.

That wasn't why she looked like crap today, though.

It was the realisation of something which Rick had then all too painfully brought into the open.

She _had_ been…leading Damon on.

They _were_ close, and he _was _looking out for her. But flirting was Damon's normal state – and God, the man could have chemistry with a rock – and, yes, so she'd been flirting back.

Until recently, she'd told herself it was totally harmless. That it didn't mean Damon, being Damon, flirted with just about everyone.

It was just a mistake, an honest, accidental mistake.

A mistake.

Elena brushed angrily at a knot which was refusing to come loose. She glanced up at the mirror, and jumped about a foot.

"Glad to see you're taking out your anger on inanimate objects," Damon teased from behind her. He sat on the edge of her bed, smiling his irritating smile.

You'd think she'd be used to him appearing in her room by now, but he still got her every time.

Elena decided not to give him the satisfaction of turning round, and continued to brush her hair. "Glad to see _you're_ still climbing drunk into girls' bedrooms late at night."

"I only had a coupla beers… and it's not _girls," _smirked Damon, looking up at her from beneath his eyelashes. "Just you."

God. She hated it when he did that.

She hated how she could feel her pulse beat faster.

"Is it that you have something particularly against the door, or do you just really like windows?" she said primly.

"Age old fail-safe against being staked by angry relatives on the way upstairs," Damon grabbed her teddy bear. "What can I say; wandering the earth for 146 years has made me one cynical bastard."

Elena almost smiled, and put down her hairbrush. "Any particular reason you're here?"

"What, you want me to leave?" Damon acted offended, and gave her a mocking smile. He stood up and wandered over to where Elena sat at her vanity table, his voice suddenly serious. "Actually, I was here to thank you for talking to Rick."

Elena stood up and turned around to face him. "I hear you went to the Grill…what happened?"

"Oh, you know. We got drunk; he tried to beat me up. The usual."

"I'm glad you're talking again."

"So am I." He grabbed one of her hands, and it was one of those rare moments when his real emotions were written on his face and in his eyes. "Thank you."

Elena was excruciatingly aware of just how close they were standing, and that her hand in his was suddenly acutely sensitive to his touch.

Stop it, she told herself, just stop it.

She really hoped her breathing wasn't any faster than normal…and if it was that he hadn't noticed.

He almost certainly had. The sucky side of vampires having super hearing.

"Thank _you_, Damon," she said softly.

Damon frowned in confusion. "What for?"

"For…for being here. Just – for everything."

"That's me," said Damon, already back to his usual sarcasm, "One caring, supportive son-of-a-gun, here to sort out all your emotional problems. Now enough with the sentimental bonding crap, or I may throw up on you."

"Don't worry, I'm done," said Elena, standing up, "I was actually planning on getting some sleep tonight too, if that's okay."

"I can keep you company if you like," Damon teased.

"No," said Elena firmly, "I said I wanted some _sleep._"

"Okay, okay," Damon grinned over his shoulder as he wandered back over to the window. Elena raised her eyebrows and he reluctantly changed direction for the door.

"Oh, and by the way," he added, turning around again and catching her gaze with his blue eyes, "If you're ready to talk about whatever's bothering you..." He pulled out his phone and flipped it into the air, "Just call me, and I'll be here."

Elena nodded.

"Goodnight," she said.

"See you tomorrow, _sunshine_."

Elena smiled at him.

As the door closed, her face fell.

She'd lied to Damon earlier about what was bothering her.

It _was_ him.

It was the way he looked at her. It was the way he spoke to her. It was everything he said, everything he did. His sarcastic humour, his disarming smile, the curve of his lips. The way he held her with his blue eyes that made her know she was safe, that he was there for her.

The way that when he was there, she knew that everything was going to be all right.

All of her convoluted feelings rushed to the surface. Fear, confusion, and shame.

She had been avoiding his eye, because she didn't want him to see the unspoken acknowledgement which had taken place within her subconscious, the acceptance of something she had been hiding from everyone.

Including herself.

She'd told Caroline that she couldn't even let the thought into her head.

But she knew now that the thought - and it was more than that, it was feeling - had been there for a long, long time now. It was growing inside her, twisting its creeping vines through her body, and what scared her was that she knew there was no way of letting go.

Elena also knew that she didn't want it to.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**So, there you are. Didst thou like it? Didst thou loathe it? Whatsoever be thy worthily held opinion, I beseech thee, REVIEW IT! :D :D :D**

**Oh and if you did like it, it would make my LIFE if you would check out my other TVD fic too. **


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